01. Legacy

First and foremost, all praise to the Most High.

I’ve been mulling over the writing process for quite some time. More specifically, what could I write about that: a. supports my professional endeavors, while b. staying true to why I write in the first place—therapy and creative expression. March gave me clarity into this dilemma. What I’ve learned is that the creative’s professional journey is directly tied to their personal journey. As such, I’m excited to embark on this expedition of thinking and writing about honesty, fear, faith, triumphs, failures, passion, purpose, and self-reflection.

“Legacy” entered my thoughts back in grad school. My drawing professor, Alexander Shundi, shared a lot of wisdom during our time together. He mentioned that a person’s legacy can live through many things, most often, our children. I didn’t think much of it, as I was soaking in as much information from him as possible. However, “legacy” is ringing even louder in my mind six years after his lecture.

March was a month of legacies converging. First, I reconnected with my colleagues for a wonderful work weekend. In the process, I worked with one of my mentors, Jacinda Walker, and met more amazing people, including Douglas Davis, who I’d love to learn from. He blessed me with his book as well! (Creative Strategy and the Business of Design) The following week, I met and learned from one of my biggest inspirations, Floyd Norman. Both he and his wife, Adrienne Brown, shared a lot of insight into their work and experience. In a strange twist of fate, my uncle departed from my family during my work weekend. He’s the reason I decided to be an artist in the first place. As a kid, I remember seeing him draw his own characters and thought, “that’s what I want to do!” Later, he introduced me to Fighting Games, which further solidified my love of drawing and character design. It hurt me deeply to find out about his passing, but, in hindsight, I’m reminded that everything happens for a reason.

“That one there. See that. That’s God.”

During the work weekend, I received some not-so-good news about him and prepared for the worst. That Sunday, I woke up to a delayed flight and a seat change. I prefer aisle seats, but the flight change forced me to get a window seat. On my flight back from Atlanta, I was anxious to get home and find out what happened. Though, something told me to look out of the window. I was fearful at first, but when I peered through the glass, I saw the most beautiful array of clouds I had ever seen. Rolling hills and crashing waves of stunning clouds with rays of sunlight sailing across the beautiful sky-ocean. Then, an overwhelming sense of peace came to my heart. My faith was renewed. In what, exactly? Either he was recovering or that my family would make it through the worst. Additionally, I read Sandra Cisneros’ The House on Mango Street that Friday and one of her stories came to mind. Titled “Darius & the Clouds”, a child named Darius points to a cloud in the sky and says: “That one there. See that. That’s God.” Oftentimes, we forget that sight is not limited to our eyes, but is also present in our spirits. It’s quite serendipitous—our souls saw one another on the descent back to my home and the ascent to his new home. That was my peace.

I’m still processing the many gains and losses March presented me with. It’s interesting that, in February, I wrote in my planner, “what if I write posts about reflection on a blog or something?” It’s come full circle, though, through perplexing circumstances. As I reflect on March, I recall my uncle’s ceremony. We wore chef jackets, honoring his love of cooking and being able to feel like a professional. I miss him dearly, but I take pride and comfort in knowing that his legacy as an artist, creative, and beautiful human being lives through our family and my art.

–Legacy